Back To Indiana
by Thparkaly
Summary: When Evan Goldman returns to Indiana after a two and a half year absence, his whole life changes. Again. But this time, he sort of likes it.
1. Chapter 1

**_Disclaimer: Don't own anything, yadda, yadda, yadda. I wish I did though._**  
**_Warnings: Rated T for some language and innuendo, for now. Rating might change._**  
**_Authors Note: Please review because that makes me happy._**

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**Back To Indiana**

I think that one of the scariest moments in anyone's life, is going back to where you started. Not necessarily the place that you were born, or where you grew up, but the place where you truly became the person you want to be. When you go back there, all the memories flood your mind. You remember the time you broke your arm falling out of a tree, and how your friends stayed home with you and watched Disney movies. It makes you think about why you didn't visit in so long, or why you don't live there, or if you're truly happy or not. Most importantly though, it makes you wonder why you came back.

I looked around my car for a minute, not wanting to leave my comfortable seat, which had conformed to my body during the 12 hour drive. The empty Starbucks cups littered the floor, right next to a pile of McDonalds bags. My iPhone buzzed from its seat in the cup-holder, a text from Archie. He's out of the hospital now, for good hopefully. After I left Indiana to go to the Jason Robert Brown School for the Artistically Gifted, I kept in touch with most of my friends. It was hard, but through the wonders of the Internet, and my then-new phone, it wasn't too much of a challenge. After a while though, I made new friends, and lost touch with some of the old. Still, Archie and I have managed to stay best friends throughout it all. I came to visit last year, but only for a few days, to see how Archie was doing after his spinal-cord surgery. Now I'm here for god-knows how long, with people I love, but also people I hate. I'm Evan Goldman, I live at 242 West 45th Street, between Broadway and 8th Avenue; and my life is still hell.


	2. Chapter 2

**_Disclaimer: Don't own anything, yadda, yadda, yadda. I wish I did though._**

**_Warnings: Rated T for some language and innuendo, for now. Rating might change._**

**_Authors Note: Please review because that makes me happy._**

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**Back To Indiana**

**Chapter 2**

I don't know why I spent two hours just sitting in my car, just staring blankly out the window. I'm here for a reason. I'm here to go see Archie, to go back to my roots, to reconnect with old friends. I'm not under any circumstances here for Patrice. I haven't spoken to her since the day we broke up. That's why I left for New York. I was accepted into JRB at the beginning of the year, but decided to stay in Indiana. When, Patrice and I broke up, I felt like I had no reason for staying there, and the school let me transfer midyear. I felt terrible about leaving Indiana. After my Bar Mitzvah, everyone was accepting of me, and they treated me like they had known me my whole life. It was amazing knowing that people really cared about me, and not just how much money my family had, or which famous person's kids my sister babysat for. The worst part about leaving was the people I had really become close to. Not only was Patrice the first friend I made in Indiana, but she was the only person other than Archie who knew all my secrets. We weren't afraid to tell each other the things we didn't dare mention to anyone else. Sometimes I wonder where I would be if I didn't know Patrice. She helped me understand who I was, and didn't judge me. She would listen to all of my secrets, nodding her head slightly as I would confess my darkest and most intimate thoughts. In return, I would listen to her and her problems, and then we would make-out. I mean we were younger, so it wasn't anything special. In fact, the first time we kissed, I stuck my tongue so far down her throat she choked. After that, whenever I did something wrong while kissing her, she would call me "The Tongue."

Speaking of "The Tongue," Brett and Lucy broke up exactly three weeks after my Bar Mitzvah. I remember because while Archie and Kendra were dating, Lucy would come over and bitch about her feelings. I felt bad for her, but at the same time she was known for being a slut, and would have a new guy in a matter of days. She went through every guy in Indiana, including Archie. When they started going out, it was the weirdest thing in the world. They were completely wrong for each other, and the relationship was purely based on hormones. Lucy needed a guy who wanted her, and Archie was a teenage boy. It was almost sickening hearing about their daily adventures. Like who ended up shirtless first, or where they were that time. The worst thing to hear about was when Lucy broke up with Archie, because he didn't want to have sex with her. He was devastated, because in his hormonal blindness, he subconsciously convinced himself that Lucy loved him. The crying from him was unbearable enough, but Lucy was the worst. She tried to crash all of our plans, and was obviously trying to break up our friendship. Luckily, Patrice was smart enough to slowly ease her away from our little clan.

Archie never was really the same after that. Something about Lucy and her slutiness rubbed off on him, I guess. He started going to parties, drinking until he found a girl to hook up with. Recently, he started smoking pot, but we're in high school so it's pretty normal. I'm just glad he hasn't done any drugs other than that. I worry about Archie a lot. He's changed since I first met him, and I don't know if it was necessarily a good change. He's still just as nerdy, but somehow he's obtained this "I don't care" personality. When his parents got divorced, he barely noticed. I think he's really sad about it though. He doesn't share his feelings, so it's hard to tell, but I'm pretty sure he keeps most of his thoughts to himself. I don't think I should worry about him as much as I do. I know that Archie can handle himself pretty well, and he's way too smart to get himself into any serious trouble. At least, I hope he is. It's hard to maintain a friendship when you live a couple hundred miles away. We work hard at it though, texting a lot, video chatting every few days. We're still just as close as we were before though.

It's been three hours now. I don't think my legs are working anymore. I keep telling them to move, but they just sit there, lifeless. My arms are the same way. Even though I've spent so much time exercising in the last year, I can't even tell where they are on my body. It's like I'm numb to everything. Ever since I moved back to New York, I just stopped caring about what happened to me. I just learned to observe and listen. Whenever I go anywhere, I stay quiet, and I just listen. I listen to the woman who can't afford food for her kids, and the guy who yells at the grocery store manager. My friends usually go to me when they need to get something off their chest too. They know that I can listen and offer them advice. For some reason though, I can't give advice to myself.

I need to get out of this car. The smell of McDonalds grease is beginning to get to me. My jeans are squeezing me in all the wrong places, and the seat I'm in is beginning to get sweaty. I don't know why I'm so nervous. Maybe it's because my mom is still mad at me for ditching her in this fucking hell hole. Maybe it's because I'm mad at myself for ditching her in this fucking hell hole. Maybe it's because I'm not happy. I'm not happy at all.


	3. Chapter 3

**_Disclaimer: Don't own anything, yadda, yadda, yadda. I wish I did though._**  
**_Warnings: Rated T for some language and innuendo, for now. Rating might change._**  
**_Authors Note: Sorry it's so short, I haven't had a lot of time to write lately. Please review because that makes me happy._**

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**Back To Indiana**

**Chapter 3**

I finally left the car. The familiar pavement of my Mom's driveway felt almost painful against the bottom of my sneakers. My hands moved to open the car door again, but my brain stopped me, forcing me to move my legs towards the front door. I nearly tripped on the steps, forgetting about the loose brick that I had promised to fix years ago. I ran my hands over the ancient doorknob, wondering whether or not I should push the button. It was a simple action that I had done many times before, but for some reason, it just felt wrong. I moved my hands toward the door, noticing the paint beginning to chip along the sides.

"At least I'll have an excuse to knock." I whispered to myself, with only the flock of birds flying a few feet above me to hear.

I knocked twice, barely hard enough for anyone inside to hear. Immediately, I heard the sound of feet shuffling to the door. I listened to the sound of the lock turning and clicking, and the handle being pushed down. The door swung open, and my mother looked up at me, shocked.

"Evan?" She exclaimed, squinting at me.

In retrospect, it probably would have been a good idea to tell her I was planning on staying with her _before _I arrived.

"Hi, mom."


End file.
